


Wanna Feel Your Love

by vinoharry



Series: High Voltage When We Kiss [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barebacking, Felching, M/M, Model Harry, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Solo Artist Zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3784927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinoharry/pseuds/vinoharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Got you something,” Zayn tells him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry stares distractedly at the bands around his fingers. Think chunky rings that Harry’s stolen on a few occasions. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Give me, please.”</em></p><p>  <em>Zayn rolls his eyes, but hands him a card. </em></p><p>  <em>It has a bulldog puppy on it. It’s trying to look fierce, but Harry’s heart melts. He opens it, sees Zayn’s messy <em>proud of you and love you – Z :) xx </em>scrawled on the inside. There’s a piece of paper that fell into his lap, folded into quarters. Harry thinks it could be plane tickets or concert tickets. </em></p><p>  <em>But when he unfolds it, his heart accelerates so quick he has trouble breathing at first. Excitement races through his veins. “Yeah?”</em></p><p>or, Zayn fucks Harry bareback then licks him out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanna Feel Your Love

**Author's Note:**

> i had a ton of fun writing the first part so i thought i'd write a second installment!!!

“You’re walking for some big names now, yeah? Laurent, Armani, Lanvin, Burberry, and the list is endless really,” Niall grins, drinks from the beer bottle sitting on his expensive oak table. It’s hilarious really, that Niall’s got such a lavish setting for his show when his flat is simplistic.

“Yeah,” Harry blushes, listening to the audience coo.

“Impressive, so what’s next?”

Harry had known Niall would ask him this. They’d gone over it the night before when Niall had him and Zayn over for a BBQ despite the fact that it was barely sunny out.

“Going to test out my acting skills I reckon.”

“Oh yeah?” Niall tips his head, impressed as the audience buzzes with excitement. “Where?”

“Zayn, my boyfriend,” he pauses as the audience claps, lets their appreciation for his boyfriend wash over him, “is shooting a new music video. We thought it’d be fun to collaborate because we’ve never done that before.”

“That’s exciting. Is it a new song?”

Harry grins so big, it splits his face. He loves the song; loves the sexy beat and the soulful lyrics, love how Zayn had brought him into the studio, shown him the background track then murmured that it was a song for Harry before fucking him over the sound board.

“Yeah, it’s going to be released as a charity single.”

Niall leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Charity single for what?”

“I’m starting an online magazine for the LGBTA community. It’s going to take a lot of resources, we’re going to have celebrities talk about their coming out experiences, little ‘it gets better’ sections, parents writing articles about what it’s like from a parents perspective. There will be a segment on sex education, because there is a massive lack of that.” With every word, Harry feels his smile get wider, heart grow bigger. He’s been working on this, with a handful of people who actually know what they’re doing for ages.

“It’s going to be quite expensive to keep it up and we don’t want to charge our readers, we want to help them. There will be an international section where someone’ll blog about the best gay venues or interesting homosexual facts about the country. I don’t know. I’m just excited to be announcing it!”

The audience claps wildly. Harry knows that some of it is due to the flashing ‘applause!’ light, but he’d also like to think it’s also for him, his idea.

“When can we expect that by?” Niall already knows, but Harry indulges the audience.

“I’m hoping by the beginning of July, but it might by August. I’ve got a great team supporting me, leading me through the business aspect of it. I’m taking a few online classes so I can be more hands on.”

“Proud of you,” Niall tells him.

Objectively, Harry knows this. Ever since they met three years ago, when Niall was trying to pick up one of the models at Burberry, he had gotten along with Harry swimmingly. They were idiots together, goofing around and taking dumb vacations whenever they felt like it.

“Thank you Niall Horan.”

“You’re welcome Harry Styles.”

Harry leans forward for a fist bump, narrowly avoiding knocking his glass of wine over in the process. He loves the relaxed atmosphere on Late Night with Niall Horan. He loves the alcohol, the audience’s jovialness. He loves Niall’s bright and shining face, loud laugh, and rambunctious voice. He loves the tray of fruit Niall’s set out on the table and the big bowl of pretzels.

“Alright well! When we come back, I will be talking with Maisie Williams and the new season of Game of Thrones!”

The audience claps as Harry sips his wine, draining it comically and flailing his legs around. Niall laughs before throwing his arms around him for a hug. He can hear the backup band, Josh and Sandy and Jon, playing until someone calls break.

“That was great! How do you feel?”

There’s some people fluttering around them, touching of Niall’s hair, taking the mic off Harry. He lifts his arms, leaning forward to let the sound assistant detach it from his collar.

“Good,” Harry nods, flushing from adrenaline and the strong wine. Niall’s been known to get a few guests drunk. Harry himself had come dangerously close on his first show nearly two years ago. “Going to post about it on Twitter later.”

“Oi! We need a selfie for this!” Niall gets a phone out of thin air, dragging Harry in for a quick picture. Harry smiles, before poking his tongue out when he sees Niall doing the same. “Zayn’s in the back right?”

Harry nods; warm all over when he thinks of his devoted boyfriend sitting in the dressing room. He’s probably chatting with Maisie about the show, trying to get as many details as possible. He had binge watched Game of Thrones while on his last tour, re-watching them with Harry when he’d gotten back.

“Stay after, we’ll take some pictures and drink some pints.”

From somewhere near the cameras, someone starts calling the one minute countdown. They’re not live, thankfully, but Harry wraps his arms around Niall one last time before bustling off stage. He waves to the audience, blowing them a kiss before fully exiting.

“You did great,” Zayn greets. He’s sitting on a lavender coloured couch watching the television screen hanging in the corner. He’s wearing an oversized sweat top, black jeans ripped at the knees. He looks so rocker, so edgy that Harry almost laughs at the colour contrast.

“Obviously,” Harry spins, bounding over to him and straddling his lap. He digs his knee into his thigh by accident, before settling. “Is Maisie back here?”

Zayn shakes his head. “Left to go to standby.”

“Oh, I didn’t see her.”

Zayn lets him pout for half a second before distracting him with a kiss. Harry’s easy for it, crossing his arms around Zayn’s neck and licking into his mouth. He starts to grind a bit, just to tease, but before he knows it he’s sporting a semi.

“Got you something,” Zayn tells him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry stares distractedly at the bands around his fingers. Think chunky rings that Harry’s stolen on a few occasions.

Harry loves gifts. If there’s one thing he loves it’s free jackets, pants, shirts, shoes, hats, scarves, or underwear to promote from companies. He’s used a Samsung for a week to promote them before going back to his beloved iPhone. He loves when Zayn gives him random trinkets; a postcard or a shot glass, a tourist shirt or a jumper.

“Give me, please.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, but hands him a card.

It has a bulldog puppy on it. It’s trying to look fierce, but Harry’s heart melts. He opens it, sees Zayn’s messy _proud of you and love you – Z :) xx_ scrawled on the inside. There’s a piece of paper that fell into his lap, folded into quarters. Harry thinks it could be plane tickets or concert tickets.

But when he unfolds it, his heart accelerates so quick he has trouble breathing at first. Excitement races through his veins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Zayn wraps his fingers around Harry’s wrist, drags him in for a longer kiss than before. “Any way you want it, I’ll do it.”

“Holy shit,” Harry breathes, pulling back to stare at the paper again. His eyes scan all of the ‘negatives’, reading how STI free his boyfriend is shouldn’t turn him on this much, but his head’s swimming with possibilities. “Niall wants us to stay though, have beers.”

Zayn laughs, lifting an eyebrow in disbelief. “You want to drink beers with Niall or let me come in you then lick you out?”

Harry blinks; once, twice, before he’s off Zayn and trying to drag him to the exit.

Zayn laughs loudly, stopping Harry so he can call the driver. Harry clings to him the entire time, physically wrapping a leg around Zayn’s calf while they wait in the middle of the room. Harry should probably tell someone he’s going, but he’s so giddy he can’t detach himself for very long.

“Love you,” he murmurs when Zayn hangs up.

“Love you. Can’t believe how excited you are, Jesus.”

“I’m excited. Aren’t you excited? I’ve waiting _months_ for this. We’re so established. I can’t believe we’re going to fuck without a condom.” Harry can feel the flush of his cheeks, hear how loud and excited his voice is getting. He’s only had sex without a condom once and that was when he was naïve and too trusting. He hadn’t liked the feeling, but it’s been all he could think about since Zayn had mentioned it while they were drunk.

“Calm down, or else you’re going to come before we get there.”

Harry whines, twisting his body minutely away. “Want to suck you off in the car.”

“Yeah?”

Harry nods, nipping Zayn’s chin. He’s freshly shaved, smelling good enough that Harry flicks his tongue against his jaw lightning quick. After that, he can’t even stop himself, he nuzzles into Zayn’s neck, kisses it, bites it when Zayn doesn’t respond.

“Car’s here. Come on.”

Harry holds Zayn’s hand, stuffing his phone into his pocket. There’s a few of Zayn’s security guards that go with him everywhere in front of them. Harry’s not nearly as popular as Zayn. He’s got fans and more than a few million social media followers, but no one yells his name like they yell Zayn’s, no one cries and faints when they hold his hand at a signing.

So they stop and smile for the few fans that are waiting outside, Zayn drops Harry’s hand so they can split up and appease everyone. Harry winks at a fan that says Zayn’s sexy, smiles for a boy who looks like he’s lacking oxygen. When he finally gets into the car, he slides the partition up and wiggles between Zayn’s knees on the ground.

It’s definitely not as sexy as Beyoncé had made it seem, but he loves being in this position for Zayn.

“Eager,” Zayn laughs, stroking Harry’s hair off his face.

“Always for you.”

“Sap,” Zayn chuckles, rolling down the window a smidgen.

“Get your cock out, come on.”

Before Harry can pout too much, Zayn’s unzipping his pants, stroking himself right in front of Harry’s lips.

Harry leans up, chasing his dick as it bobs. When he finally wraps his lips around it, he feels centered, like the electricity firing throughout his veins has found an outlet. He relaxes his throat, rests his hands on the leather seat and let’s Zayn feed him his cock.

He can feel drool slipping down his chin, eyes watering with the effort to take as much in at possible. When he has to pull back, he kisses a line to Zayn’s hand, kissing his knuckles before licking a fat stripe up the underside of his dick.

“Doing so well,” Zayn murmurs, tipping his head back.

He looks beautiful. Harry’s been with people who look horrible from this position, with double or triple chins staring back at him. Even when Zayn looks down, he looks like an ethereal beauty.

The car jerks to a stop when Harry’s finally got Zayn down his throat. He tries not to gag, breathes through his nose, but then Zayn’s got his forefinger pressed down on one of his nostrils. He would never cut off Harry’s oxygen – not without proper consent anyway – but the possibility of being at Zayn’s mercy, of Zayn deciding when he breathes, how much he does, and how long he’s got to suck Zayn off for before he can take a breath, has Harry straining against his jeans.

“You were made to suck my dick, weren’t you?” Zayn tugs at the root of Harry’s hair, makes him suck Zayn’s cock further.

Harry can’t do anything other than hum, feel his throat flutter and constrict. “Look so beautiful, always. I can’t wait to go home, get you all messy in our bed.”

Harry nods, eyes blinking shut. He loves domesticity. The first time Zayn had talked about owning a house together, Harry’d come before he could even process it. He’s gotten hard at the sight of Zayn paying their bills, had enthusiastically fucked Zayn when he mentioned the possibility of getting a tank of fish, and cuts their grocery shopping short when Zayn talks about what they’ll make for dinner. Zayn had made a flippant comment about _eventually wanting to get married one day in the future when I’ve like, met someone y’know?_ and Harry had looked for rings online until Gemma swatted him in the head, reminding him that it was their fourth date.

It’s not even embarrassing anymore.

Harry had tried to hide it, but now Zayn uses it to his advantage. Everything is “ours”; our house, our bed, our oven, our hand soap.

“Fuck me,” Harry pleads, digging his nails into the seat.

“When we get home,” Zayn tells him, lifting his hips.

Harry sputters, pulling off Zayn’s dick to pay more attention to the head. He doesn’t get as wet as Harry does, doesn’t leak and beg to come. Instead, he shoves his hips up until Harry’s taking him down his throat again and says, “Get me off before we get home.” The _or else_ hangs in the air.

Harry does. Zayn comes within a few minutes. There’s enough time to spare that Harry can curl up in his lap, trying to ignore his hard-on so he can press kisses into Zayn’s neck. Zayn strokes his back, the thin material of Harry’s shirt allowing his fingertips to be felt perfectly.

When they stumble through the door, Zayn pushes Harry up against it. His lips are wet, as if he had been licking them incessantly since he got off. Harry’s thrumming with energy, anticipation twisting around every organ.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Zayn announces, taking such a big step away from Harry that Harry stumbles in his attempt to follow.

“No,” Harry pouts. When Zayn raises a challenging eyebrow, Harry physically stomps his foot. “No. No, fuck me now.”

Zayn laughs, taking off his baggy hoodie. His skins probably sweating, Harry wants to lick it.

“Please. Please Zayn, I can’t wait.”

Zayn turns around to roll his eyes. Grabbing his attention is the first barrier to break down when Harry wants to get his way. “I’ll get you off again.”

“Oh, I know you will,” Zayn agrees. His tiny bun bobs as he nods.

“C’mon. Please. I’ve been waiting months for this.” Zayn takes a step closer. Harry resists the urge to do a victory dance. “I’ll make it good,” Harry tempts.

“Alright,” Zayn nods, finally relenting. Harry surges forwards, ready to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. “But-” Harry’s stomach twists, “You’re prepping yourself.”

It’s not quite a hardship. Harry enjoys opening himself, enjoys it even more when Zayn watches him with heavy lids and a lazy smirk.

So he walks past Zayn, making sure to swing his hips and take his time walking up the stairs.

He barely has his clothes off before Zayn’s shuttling him onto the bed, getting him onto his back.

Harry laughs, the breath going out of him in a huff. Zayn is so beautiful. Some days Harry can’t believe that he’s his; that he can touch and kiss and curl up with Zayn and talk to him about anything and everything without being judged.

“Hi,” Harry smiles. The lights are a bit too bright, but he loves the way he can make out every feature of Zayn’s face. “You’re so beautiful.”

Zayn chuckles, the soft way that makes his eyes all squinty. He hands Harry the bottle of lube then strips off his shirt. “Cherry?” Harry laughs. It’s a new bottle, one that comes with a pump. It’s a bit ridiculous that they’d make lube with a pump, but he’s all for it if Zayn is.

“Get on with it.”

Harry does, sliding a finger into himself, feeling the cool lube send a shiver down his spine. Zayn undresses, sitting between Harry’s legs as he watches Harry fingers himself.

“Want me to blow you?” Zayn asks, running his hands up the insides of his legs.

Harry shakes his head, thinks of the way Zayn will feel in him. “I’ll come too soon.”

Zayn laughs, trailing kisses around Harry’s abdomen. “Remember the first time you fucked me?” Zayn asks, biting at one of Harry’s stray nipples. Harry jerks his hips, dislodging his fingers.

“No, that’s embarrassing,” he tries to wiggle Zayn off of him, but it’s a half-hearted effort.

“Was hilarious, you came in about five seconds.” Zayn _knows_ how incredibly humiliated Harry gets from that memory, of Harry shooting into the condom with a loud groan followed by a squeak of disbelief.

“You _sneezed_ ,” Harry points out, adding a second finger when Zayn trails his teeth over his raised nipple. It’s one of the primary ones, sensitive. “You clenched up!” Zayn tickles his ribs, nuzzling into the giant moth on his stomach. “S’not my fault, I redeemed myself.”

Zayn nods, back hunched as he snakes his way up Harry’s body. “You did,” Zayn sounds a little far away, like he too is remembering how he and Harry had built a half-arsed blanket fort, fucking on the mound of pillows and blankets they had shoved into it. There was a pesky empty bag of chips that had been under Harry’s knee, making him slide all over the place when he had tried to thrust.

Harry adds a third finger, recalling how Zayn had kissed his mouth, admitted that he hadn’t done it that way in a while. Something fierce and protective had swelled up in Harry that day. He made a mental vow to always be gentle, always soft and caring when Zayn needed it.

“Ready,” Harry says, withdrawing his hand and wiping it off on their duvet. Zayn makes a face, but doesn’t say anything else as he strokes Harry’s hip. He feels empty, but then his heart explodes at the thought of Zayn coming in him, filling him up.

“How do you want me?” Zayn strokes a few fingers over Harry’s hole, not enough to slide in, but enough that Harry can feel the pressure feeling him.

“Doggy?” Harry asks, bringing his hands to loop around Zayn’s neck. He brings him in for a kiss, wrapping his legs around Zayn and getting lost in the feeling. Harry feels wound too tight, like if he doesn’t kiss Zayn he’ll come long before they’ve even begun.

“Really?” They don’t do it that way often, Harry likes to stare into Zayn’s eyes, he likes to kiss Zayn’s neck and wrap all of his spaghetti limbs around him.

“Mhmm, want you to claim me.”

For a moment, Harry thinks he’s gone too far. Zayn hesitates before nodding though, smiling and guiding Harry onto all fours. He grabs for the lube, hears Zayn gasp when he wraps his hand around his dick.

It’s an odd feeling, feeling Zayn slide in without a condom. Harry tries to relax as much as he can, to focus on Zayn stroking his spine, squeezing his hip. Harry hangs his head, tries to focus on going lax for Zayn. The first few thrusts are met with resistance before Zayn withdraws and builds a rhythm.

It punches a gasp from Harry every time Zayn bottoms out, knowing it’s his dick, condom-free inside of him, leaking and twitching and _God_ , it’s such a nice, nice dick.

“Alright?” Zayn asks, resting his hand on the back of Harry’s neck. When he nods, emits a small moan, Zayn starts to speed up.

Harry focuses on his breathing, on keeping his back straight and not slumping and fucking back onto Zayn. Zayn’s relentless, from where Harry’s hanging his head, he can see Zayn’s legs between his; how he’s got one foot flat on the bed so he can fuck up into him.

Zayn’s grunting, holding Harry’s hips so tight Harry knows it’ll bruise. They’ll have to do this again, over the bathroom counter where Harry can watch; can see Zayn’s face as he fucks him. When he mentions as much, it punches a laugh from Zayn, gets him to slow down.

“You alright? Your knees okay?”

Security washes over Harry, a big grin splitting over his face even though Zayn can’t see. So he turns his head and catches Zayn’s eye underneath the flop of Harry hanging over his face. Zayn pushes it back, kisses Harry’s shoulder blade.

Harry slumps forward, supporting himself with his elbows as he rocked back into Zayn’s touch.

“Love this,” Harry babbles, breath hitching when Zayn’s hips knock against his at the same moment he rocks back. They fall into a rhythm, Harry feeling his dick bobble, his heart race as Zayn squeezes his love handles. “God, you feel so good, can feel everything.”

It’s most likely an illusion, the way Harry feels like he’s a million times closer to Zayn. He had thought the only difference would be the orgasm, feeling Zayn leaking into him, but it feels different without the rubber between them.

“One sec,” Zayn says and then he’s withdrawing. The bed creaks as moves around, Harry turning to see what’s going on and _shit_.

Zayn’s chest is flushed, his hair poking out of the once smooth bun. He’s jerking himself off with more lube, wetting his dick so much Harry wiggles his arse in anticipation. When Zayn catches his eye, he grins, shuffling forward to kiss him. He nips Harry’s bottom lip, gets Harry to twist and chase him until –

Until the wires holding Harry up snap and he’s falling onto his back. Zayn laughs into his mouth, tumbling down on top of him. “Want to come in you,” he says, kissing Harry harder so he can’t respond.

Harry’s caught between yanking him in for longer kisses or begging Zayn to fuck him.

Zayn seems to know though, like he always does.

He rearranges Harry’s legs, gets one over his shoulder before sinking in again. The burn in Harry’s thigh is worth it though, as he feels Zayn deeper than before. “Holy fuck,” Harry laughs, tossing his arms wide open.

“M’not gonna last,” Zayn tells him, wrapping his hand around Harry’s dick. His rings are cool on his skin. Harry wants to come all over them, get his fingers messy before sucking on each of them.

He circles his hips, tries to clench his arse, but then cries out when Zayn thrusts so hard Harry rocks up the bed. “Come in me,” Harry babbles, chest heaving. “Want to feel it.”

Zayn kisses the inside of Harry’s knee, strokes his fingers along the outside of his thigh before swivelling his hips. He’s so good at this, can make Harry salivate just by standing in front of him and circling his hips.

There’s one music video, from before they got together, that has Zayn in a nightclub, singing about finding ‘the one for the night’ where he gyrates with the air. It’s suggestive and a bit dirty and Harry had watched it ten times in a row until he was googling everything about Zayn. Harry had told him that, a couple weeks into dating and ever since then Zayn had made it a point to twist his hips, gyrate and circle them until Harry was practically hopping onto his dick.

Zayn squeezes the base of Harry’s dick, jerking him off to the same tempo of his hips. “Zayn, wanna come,” Harry whines, clenching. He _swears_ he feels Zayn’s cock twitch inside of him. “Fill me up, need it.”

“Yeah?” Zayn grunts, hips pistoling until they break off into tight thrusts that jolt Harry around.

When he comes, it’s with a fist wrapped tight around Harry’s dick. It feels like Zayn throbs inside of Harry as he comes. Harry feels slick and wet, shivering below Zayn. He knocks Zayn’s useless hand away, going to bring himself off, but Zayn doesn’t let him.

He kisses Harry’s temple once, then suddenly Harry finds himself on his stomach, hands wedged under his chest. He feels full and dopy; drugged up in a way only Zayn can get him. Christ, he hasn’t even come yet and he’s still so satisfied. Zayn yanks his hips back, gets him into a half variation of a child’s pose that leaves his cock trapped between his thighs and his stomach.

He’s about to ask Zayn what he’s doing, feeling some come dripping out of his arse when he feels Zayn’s tongue catch it.

It hits Harry then, that Zayn’s licking his come out of Harry’s fucked out arse. He starfishes his arms, grips the sheets in his hands and lets Zayn have at it.

Harry gasps, splutters, and nearly chokes in alarm with every flick of Zayn’s tongue. He’s got such a great mouth. Harry’s always attracted to Zayn’s lips; his eyes always managing to find them first whenever they’re together. Zayn had made a comment about that on their fourth date, something about “my eyes are up here” before licking his lips. As soon as Harry had glanced up at him, Zayn had leaned forward and kissed him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry moans when Zayn licks a fat stripe over Harry’s hole. Harry’s aware of the lack of stubble scraping against his skin, but the fact that Harry’s dripping wet, Zayn licking him out enthusiastically, makes him push his arse back so Zayn has greater access. “Fuck, oh my God. I’m going to die.”

Zayn says something, something that’s muffled in the meat of Harry’s arse, before he slides three fingers into him and licks around them. Harry shoots off then, straight onto his thighs.

“I’m deaddddddd,” he whines into the sheets when he’s got his bearings back.

“You better not be,” Zayn laughs. Zayn kisses up his spine, nosing at his neck until Harry turns his head enough to receive a kiss.

“Taste like cherry jizz.”

Zayn smacks his bum lightly, a warning for being cheeky. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Harry mumbles, leaning up for another kiss.

Zayn kisses him, until Harry’s sprawled out on his back, Zayn straddling his thighs. He’s not even half hard and he’s got sweat sheening on his chest. Harry traces the wings on Zayn’s sternum, digs his thumb into ‘don’t think I won’t’, then nuzzles against his chin.

“You’re like a damn cat after you come,” Zayn laughs.

“Mhmm.” Harry feels loved, content.

“’ve got to take a shower though, you’ve still got come up your arse.”

“Like it,” Harry argues. Although, he can feel it cooling on the bottoms of his arse cheeks and it’s not entirely comfortable.

Zayn wedges a hand between the duvet and Harry’s arse, pinching it. “Come on, you can suck me off in the shower.”

Harry gets up so quick he nearly head butts his boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm having a lot of fun with this verse, so let me know if you have any ideas for it :)
> 
> you can find me on [tumblr](www.vinoharry.tumblr.com/)


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